Like a trickle from my eyes, your words ebb and flow over the scars of my childish life and find their way easily into the cracks between the part of me that's breathing and the part of me that's still. The snow is still falling gracefully around me. Our little house is a postcard and I am the lonely girl just outside the frame. It's my garndmother's 73rd birthday. I'm so proud of her for overcoming 3 types of cancer and 7 children. She is one of my idols. I respect her more than she will ever know. Jason came over today at 7 in the morning. I don't remember letting him in, but when I awoke, he was alseep on my couch. We spent the day in my makeshift bedroom listening to music and remembering the past. I started sewing our jackets today. I love to sew, it's a great sense of accomplishment; making something by hand. I am in a crew. We are called the Frobots [that's what the jackets are for]. I finally feel like I'm a part of something instead of waiting on the sidelines for something; anything. It makes me happy. The snow falls like your empty promises; a million tiny peices like the shatterings of my heart. I sincerely hope we have no school tomorrow. I'm almost positive we don't but I'm still making myself ready. I think I may love you. But I'm never quite sure. I don't want this teenage love; show me something tangible. Show me something real. Show me love letters and hand holding and butterfly kisses on my cheek. Make me feel warm and fuzzy when you hold me. Make me feel like this is true and maybe my heart isn't as frozen as I thought it to be. I'm such a little girl, but kiss me like I'm a teenager. Kiss me like I know you want to. Then and only then will I grow up.